This is an article written by John OâBrien in the Sindo yesterday about Oliver Brady. Whatever your opinion of him you canât but respect him for the way he gets wins out of what would be perceived as average horses. Ebadiyan won again today and is probably worth following for the rest of the season.
I remember seeing him on the TV in Cheltenham in '07 lepping around the place like a fool cos Baron De Feypo was third in the Coral Cup. Another one of his horses was leading turning home in the County Hurdle that year and may have been placed. He seems like a nutter but he must have some brains in there somewhere. Think I remember Shannonsider giving out about him on AFR at the time (apologies if Iâm mixing you up with someone else)
The miracle of Oliver Brady
Sunday January 11 2009
T HE doctor from Blackrock Clinic had phoned on Wednesday morning. The commotion he heard when Oliver Brady answered told him, as he feared, that the trainer was out and about. The temperature gauge in Monaghan had plunged to minus 10 and outdoors in such Arctic conditions was nowhere for a man in Bradyâs condition to be. Shock tactics were the order of the day. âYou know if you catch a cold and get pneumonia,â the doctor said sombrely, âyouâll not come out of it.â
But on a morning like this where else could Brady be? Never before had the winter chill brought his home and yard to a virtual standstill. The pipes in the house were frozen, a coat of thick ice covered the swimming pool inside the barn and, for the first time since its installation, the all-weather gallop on the hill behind his house was out of commission.
So this is how you find him: ferrying buckets of water to thirsty horses, fixing the heat in the barn to melt the ice, arranging for horses to travel to Dundalk for their daily work-out. In the afternoon there will be meetings at the recycling plant he co-owns 10 miles down the road in Castleblayney. Mustnât forget, either, to leave money out for the woman coming to do the horsesâ backs in the afternoon. Every day a thousand different things to do.
The manic pace of his life is easy to explain. Six years ago Brady sat in the Mater Hospital, a cyst the size of a golf ball in his stomach, and heard the grim prognosis that he had six months to live. Just over a year ago he had a quadruple bypass operation to unclog arteries that were up to 97 per cent blocked. He is diabetic and has problems with his lungs. In short, he is a walking and breathing miracle.
He wears his illness, like all his affairs, lightly. He tells of the day last month when they strapped a machine to his chest and monitored his heart-rate for four days. When they checked the results, the graph was pleasingly stable until, for a short period, the reading almost went off the page. The doctors were stumped until Brady cleared up the mystery. âIâd just had a winner [Saddlerâs Native] at Clonmel. It was my first for a while and I was a bit excited. So I said, âdoctor, thatâs not hard to explain. I was after having a winner during that timeâ.â
Itâs just as well, he thinks, he wasnât wearing the monitor when Ebadiyan â the four-year-old he bought âfor a songâ last October â sauntered home by 22 lengths in a maiden hurdle at Naas last Sunday. He knows what would have happened. They would have prescribed him another pill to add to the 17 he already has to take daily to keep his various ailments in check.
They try to kid him along now, like a stubborn old colt, issuing constant warnings to mind himself, hoping that enough of them stick. They tell him to rein in his wilder side, but not too much. Because if thereâs a fair chance the horses end up killing Brady, they know itâs not much of an exaggeration to say that it is the same horses who have been keeping him alive.
âThe doctors keep telling me when you get those winners donât be getting too excited. Be relaxed, stay cool. And I do tell them âJaysus doc, I only get a few in the year. Itâs not as if weâre doing this every day of the weekâ. All things considered Iâm flying. The horses keep me going. They help me get over the illness.â
To understand where Brady comes from, though, you must leave the horses behind for a minute and head for the smart reception room of Shabra Plastics Limited on the fringes of Castleblayney. Brady established the firm in 1986 with his business partner and owner Rita Shah. At the start they had two workers. Now Shabra employs 76 people and has an annual turnover in the region of 10m. It is the pride of Bradyâs life.
At first they manufactured bags from imported raw plastic until Shah wondered why they couldnât recycle the waste themselves instead of importing it. Year by year the business grew. The beauty of it is that nothing that enters the factory premises goes to waste. The water they use comes from the rain and the dirt they filter away from it is sold as compost. Everything has its use. Everything is renewable.
The same philosophy underscores Bradyâs other life as a trainer. He never dreamed of taking on the bigger stables like Meade or Mullins. You would be broke in a year. Instead, he developed an eye for a horse that others had given up on. He saw promise where others saw only deadwood. He noticed potential in othersâ cast-offs. There were bargains to be had if you looked hard enough.
His first winner, Barrâs Hill at Navan in 1985, set the template. He found the horse when he was in Newry one day, just as he was being prepared to be sent to Scotland where a bitter end awaited. The asking price was 135 and Brady had to act quickly. âYouâd better buy it today,â the seller told him, âbecause it wonât be here tomorrow.â
Few would have considered it a worthwhile investment. In 11 runs Barrâs Hill had finished last 10 times and managed to beat one rival in the other. But Brady took her home, gave her time to settle and then sent her to win at Navan. A few days later she won a valuable handicap on 2,000 Guineas day at The Curragh. In all, Barrâs Hill would win six races and amass the equivalent of over 60,000 in prize money.
A few years earlier, Brady had walked away with over 100,000 in winnings from the 1981 Cheltenham Festival and, with it, he bought the land where he built his house and stables. When he could, he added to the mix. When Gazalani won the Jameson Gold Cup at Fairyhouse in 1997, carrying a wedge of Bradyâs cash at 33/1, he started building an all-weather gallop. When the same horse won at Punchestown a year later at 16/1, he finished it.
As a trainer he has been guided by no philosophy other than a disdain for having to pay a kingâs ransom for a horse. As well as Ebadiyan he bought another colt from the Flat last year, a three-year-old called Icy Cool for the grand price of 50,000. He thinks Icy Cool will be a nice horse but in all his years Brady had never paid so much for a horse and, even now, he bristles at the pressure such a splurge brings.
He is happiest at the other end of the scale. In 2003, he paid 9,000 for Baron De Feypo. The five-year-old hadnât won in 22 outings but, in Bradyâs hands, won five of his next 15, earning in the region of 400,000. In his yard he has a colt formerly trained by Michael Stoute that fetched 500,000 as a yearling. Brady bought him last year for the knock-down price of 12,000.
As part of his arrangement with Shah, everything they win is ploughed back into the horses. Brady had worked for Shahâs father in Kenya and in the Middle East in the 1970s and when Rita was sent to run the factory with Brady, the only condition imposed upon her was that she support the social side of the business as well. The social side meant only one thing: horses.
The closeness between them is striking: the ebullient, larger-than-life figure from Monaghan and the steely, determined woman from Kenya. In the darkest days, when the cancer was eating away inside him, Shah was a constant presence, accompanying Brady on the long round-trips to Dublin and she is there still, nursing him along as best she can, gently cajoling and reassuring.
âSometimes I think itâs worse he gets,â she says smiling. âHe doesnât know really. Oliver just wants to enjoy life. Tomorrow we have to go down to Dublin for his check-up. I know heâs forgotten about it. Iâll have to remind him in the morning. âIâll be down to collect you at two oâclock. Be ready.â I have to keep his diary for him.â
It was at Shahâs insistence that Brady had his heart checked before he left on a business trip to Kenya last year. Although the doctor had cleared him to go, Brady thought to mention the difficulty he was experiencing while walking to the top of his gallops in the morning. If he was rushing to meet the horses, he would be out of breath before he had reached half-way.
âThe doctor said âoh, weâd better check you in to have a lookâ. In I go and I get an angiogram. Told I needed things called stints. Theyâre wee things they put in your heart but they couldnât get them in. The arteries were too blocked. Before I knew it I was been wheeled in for surgery. It took from 7.15 in the morning till 3.30 in the afternoon. My heart was stopped. I was on a machine. But I didnât feel a thing.â
It seems typical of Bradyâs character, though, that as he talks about the operation he drifts off on a tangent about how heâd tucked into a box of chocolate biscuits the night before, a shocking indulgence, and, from there, to the irritation of having no water to shave that morning, as if the threat of cancer and heart problems were little more than everyday nuisances to be casually brushed aside.
Because his health problems are widely known, the overstated joy with which he greets his horses in the winnersâ enclosure is well-received and increasingly cherished. It is assumed that the vigour of Bradyâs celebrations is a consequence of his illness and the joy he must feel at the continuing gift of life but that isnât entirely true. Exuberance has always been his way.
When he lived in England in the early 1980s, he knew a man who had owned a Royal Ascot winner. One day Brady asked him to recount his greatest day in racing, certain the man would regale him with the story of that great day at Ascot. But he didnât. ââNo, no, no,â he said. It had passed him by. He was afraid to let himself go. He forgot to savour it.â
Every morning Brady stands at the top of his gallops, watches the sparkling grey coat of Ebadiyan sweep by and knows these are days to savour. On the day of the sales at Goffâs, Ebadiyan was the first John Oxx-trained horse to enter the ring and, at 18,000, the cheapest sold that day. Brady had heard the warnings floating around beforehand but, true to his nature, paid no heed.
âWord was that he had a wind problem. But I had my vet check him out before the sales and he said there was nothing wrong. John Oxx told me he was a nice horse and he thought heâd go for more. He felt heâd run him in two races he shouldnât, when the ground wasnât suitable. This fella needs good ground. I wasnât planning to run him until February but then the frost came and the ground dried up.â
Brady had 5,000 each-way at 12/1 when he made his hurdling debut at Leopardstown last month but he was carried out at the second flight and backed him again at 10/1 when he was third at Punchestown four days later when he knew theyâd got the tactics wrong. Over two miles Ebadiyan needed to be forcing the pace rather than waiting behind horses with superior speed.
At Naas last week, they got it right. Ebadiyan blasted off from the front and never saw another rival, giving Brady his easiest winner in 24 years of racing. Heâll run him again at Punchestownâs rearranged fixture tomorrow and then, he hopes, all roads lead to the Triumph Hurdle in March. He is sure the horse is the best heâs ever trained but he just has to prove it now.
His stable teems with talent. He has space for 24 boxes, many of them filled with young, recently purchased horses, a sign that Brady has no intentions of slowing up anytime soon. They were stricken nine days ago when Maralan â dearly, beloved Maralan â capsized on the gallops and died in front of them as they stared helplessly on.
âPoor old Maralan,â Brady says. âWe were hoping to run him on Sunday in the Pierse Hurdle. He ran a brilliant race in it two years ago. He just had a massive heart attack. He was dead within five minutes from the moment he went down. Itâs never easy when you lose one like that, especially a great old servant like him.â
Heâs seen so many go before him, both equine and human. Cancer has claimed six of his nearest family. Two years ago it took two of his brothers, Benny and Johnny, within the space of a week. Why he himself has been spared he doesnât know. He jokes sometimes that heâs holding out for the big one, the Cheltenham winner. Two years ago Baron De Feypo finished a gallant third in the Coral Cup and, to general approval, Brady took over the winnersâ enclosure. In Bradyâs case, the old racing clich rings true: have a Cheltenham winner and die happy.
There is more to do as well. On Friday, he is off to Kenya where he is involved in a project to build a school for orphans. Last year he raised 77,000 for the African missions and this year he is aiming higher again. Through Shabra Charity Foundation he is hoping to raise in excess of 600,000 for causes dear to his heart. Shah and a Roscommon man, Frank Campbell, have each donated a horse he will offer for syndication and, in April or May, there will be a major golf classic at the Slieve Russell in Cavan.
âItâs a lot of work but weâre nearly there. Iâd like to raise between 600,000 and 1m if I can. Weâve registered the charity because money donated can be claimed back in tax. The plan is to sponsor a machine in St Lukeâs Hospital in Dublin for the not so well-off and to help for heart research as well. The balance of the money will go to Kenya for the school for orphans. Iâm keen to get it done. In case I drop off at least Iâll have something done.â
As he speaks, heâs back in the yard now, showing off the swimming pool, explaining how it fills itself from two pipes turned upwards to collect rainwater that then slope down to fill the pool with 64,000 gallons of water, saving him a fortune and sparing the environment in the process. And the thought strikes that the pool is a fitting metaphor for how he has lived his life: self-sufficient, miraculous, renewable.